Page 28 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
Sebastian thanked her as she pressed the parcel into his hand, then hurried off through the door and into the garden. The air felt cool and fresh after the fragrant, hot air in the kitchen.
“Here,” he said, passing him a jam tart where he waited by the tree. Matthew ate it at once, then grinned at Sebastian.
“Thank you. Some things have not changed.”
“No. They haven’t,” Sebastian agreed, smiling. They had stolen food from Mrs. Teller when Matthew came to visit in their student days. It had not been often that Sebastian had returned to the manor from Cambridge, but on their rare long holidays he and Matthew had ridden down together. Matthew’s estate was only two hours’ ride from Ramsgate, after all.
Sebastian stood under the tree, eating a slice of delicious cold pie. The garden was sweet-scented and pleasant, the smell of damp earth mingling with the herbs from the kitchen garden and the sound of bees making a dreamy, peaceful noise in the quiet, cool air.
“Thank you, old chap,” Matthew commented, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. “That was a delicious lunch.”
“Not much of a lunch,” Sebastian commented.
“It’s good enough to keep me going until I get home. There, I will take a second repast and then take a ride until teatime.” Matthew chuckled.
“Good, good,” Sebastian said with a grin.
“Have a good afternoon,” Matthew called, swinging up into the saddle and riding off.
“I will,” Sebastian commented.
“And thank you again,” Matthew added, turning his horse, and riding up to the path.
“It was a fine morning,” Sebastian called back, waving as Matthew headed down the gravel drive towards the gate.
Sebastian walked up slowly to the front door. As he reached it, the butler appeared in the doorway.
“My lord,” he began. “A messenger just arrived not five minutes ago. He had this letter for you.”
“Oh.” Sebastian glanced at it, then slipped it into his pocket. He would read it after lunch. It had no postmark, so it was clearly from someone living nearby. It was sealed with a lump of sealing-wax, without any impression of a seal. Sometimes Aunt Tessa sent her letters like that, sending them over to Ramsgate by means of one of her servants. He smiled fondly, thinking of her. He would read it later.
Sebastian stood a moment longer, thinking about what he and Matthew had discussed. It was a fine idea, talking to Eleanor about gardening. He was just forming the words in his mind, planning to discuss the rose-garden with her, when Papa wandered out of the front door.
“Papa!” he greeted him, surprised. It was lunchtime, and he had expected his father to be indoors having his meal.
“Good morning, son,” his father greeted him. He had a tense, uneasy expression and Sebastian felt his spine tense.
“What is it, Papa?” he asked swiftly. “I apologise that I was late for lunch. Other matters kept me busy.”
“Mph,” his father muttered. “Those other matters, Sebastian, are not as important as your wife.”
“Papa!” Sebastian stiffened. “I was on a ride with Matthew. One must spend some time out of doors.”
“You could spend time walking with her,” his father said firmly. “She only just arrived, son. Be a bit more considerate.”
“I planned to be,” Sebastian replied angrily. “I need no-oneto manage my business for me.” His face flushed. He felt like he did when he was a child and Papa instructed him to practice more sword-craft when that had been exactly where he’d been headed. It took all the fun out of it, turning something he liked doing into a boring task.
“Well, it seems you do. She’s pining away up there in the drawing room. Take her outdoors.”
“Why don’t you?” Sebastian flashed back. “You seem so concerned for her welfare.”
“Son!” his father yelled. “You will do as I say without argument. This is important.”
“Because of Aunt Tessa?” He demanded.
“What?” his father shouted back. “You think that I...that I...” His face reddened and he spluttered, unable, it seemed, to breathe.
“Papa!” Sebastian ran forward, grabbing his arm. His anger disappeared, replaced by horror.
